


Dancing On My Own

by Mother_of_Pearl



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Dancing, Feels, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Memories, Protective Steve, Requited Love, Secret Crush, Steve Rogers Feels, Stony - Freeform, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, True Love, confessing, too much feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 07:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16572104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mother_of_Pearl/pseuds/Mother_of_Pearl
Summary: Steve's memories went back to all the moments he had shared with Tony. The countless times he had visited Tony in his workshop. The countless times they had sat together, drinking tea and black coffee. The countless times he absentmindedly had drawn Tony's delicate features, just to rip the sheet of paper out of his sketch book as he finished the picture, folding it neatly and never giving it to Tony. As soon as his crystal blue gaze had taken in the black lines of charcoal in front of him, the courage to confess had left his body...





	Dancing On My Own

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Welcome to my very first Stony Fanfiction ♡
> 
> I hope you like it. It was based on Calum Scott's "Dancing on my own" If you wanna listen to it, here's the link:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q31tGyBJhRY
> 
> Lots of love <3  
> I appreciate every comment and kudo since this ist my first time writing about Steveand Tony.  
> I hope I didn't mess it up too badly......
> 
> Please ignore typos and mistakes, english is not my mother language. Thanks a lot!! ♡

The heavy scent of cigarettes hung in the air and the dimmed lights of the orange glowing bulbs only faintly enlightened the scenery, that reminded him of an old movie he had seen as a young adult. Before everything went down, before he had sold his soul, before he had given in to the darkness of the world around him, which he was never meant to see, never intended to see, never wanted to see, before his everything had broken down to shards. Melancholic music, a lethargic rhythm, thumping way too slow for his nervous heartbeat **;** a deep, rough voice, dragging his thoughts even more into the dark numbness. The small band just picked up a new song. The amounts of alcohol was almost palpable in the thick air. He suppressed a small cough and struggled breathing in the venomous mixture of sickening scents, as if he was back to his former self. The asthma making him stiff and unable to move forward, stuck in his morass of self-doubt, anger and helplessness. Emotions crawled across his skin, under his skin, tugging at his shaken, broken heart. A single strand of his blond hair tickled his forehead as he leaned back on the wall in the weakly lit corner. His crystal blue eyes searching for the well known figure of his love. Love. It hurt. The sound of that word hurt so much.  
At the counter he spotted foreign faces with fake smiles and feigned intimacy, leaving you as quickly as joining you if the tables were to turn. Then his desperate eyes caught sight of dark wild hair, expressive chocolate brown eyes, framed with long lashes, fluttering like butterflies, as he filled the shabby bar with his overwhelming aura. A sad smile on his face, but only Steve could tell it was sad. So sad. Why was he so sad. He hid his true self behind his three pieced, perfectly fitting suit, the colored sunglasses he still wore and his sarcastic comments, directed at someone beside him. Steve's eyes were unable to let go of that wonderful sight. The defined muscles and tendons beneath the silky skin of his delicate neck, showing off temptingly as he moved. The faint glow of blue from beneath his dark red shirt shone brightly through the yellowish light, contouring his smooth jawline and his unknown companion in front of him. Her long nails and slender hands touched his chest, stroking the silk of the suit, just to put on that false, teeth showing grin of a vixen eying her prey.  
It hurt. It hurt so much. Natasha had been right. He shouldn't have come. Sadness and sorrow pierced his already shattered heart, trampling over his feelings, capturing his mind in a pure white blankness. But he had to see it for himself. To see that it was over, to see that he hadn't been as perfect as he should be, to see that he had failed, for the very first time after his transformation all those centuries ago. And the hoarse voice of the singer got to him once more.  
  
  
_Somebody said you got a new friend_  
_Does she love you better than I can?_  
_And there's a big black sky over my town_  
_I know where you're at, I bet she's around_  
_And yeah, I know it's stupid_  
_But I just gotta see it for myself_  
  
  
Another painful sting shot through him and a disappointed smile tugged at his lips. Bitterly, the disappointment turned into sarcasm.  
Steve Rogers. Soldier, American hero, living legend... Avenger... Friend.  
Steve Rogers. Weak, shy, average... Scared... Alone.  
He had rescued so many lives, protected so many people, gone through so many wars. And yet he had been unable to reach, hold, confess to the love of his life. He frowned deeply as he noticed the man his eyes were laying on, took the hand of the foreign women in front of him, smiling tenderly at her, the sad look deepened in his brown iris, and he led her out to the small but cramped dance floor. A faint kiss given to her forehead made Steve grit his teeth in despair and he crossed his strong arms over his chest to suppress the trembling as he sunk deeper into the shadows of his chair in the farthest corner of the bar. Sad, oh, so sad he averted his eyes and tried desperately to ignore the dancing figures that gently drowned in the slow rhythm, dancing intimately as he wished he could have himself.  
  
  
_I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh oohh_  
_And I'm right over here, why can't you see me, oh oohh_  
_And I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the guy you're taking home, oohh_  
_I keep dancing on my own_  
  
  
Steve's memories went back to all the moments he had shared with Tony. The countless times he had visited Tony in his workshop. The countless times they had sat together, drinking tea and black coffee. The countless times he absentmindedly had drawn Tony's delicate features, just to rip the sheet of paper out of his sketch book as he finished the picture, folding it neatly and never giving it to Tony. Never. Not once. As soon as his blue gaze had taken in the black lines of charcoal in front of him, his courage had left his body. All his strength, all his muscles, all his willpower had left him. The fear taking his breath away. Fear. Fear, so desperate. Fear, so almighty. Fear, to loose what he had, friendship, trust. Fear had held him back. Held him back from asking Tony. Held him back from asking for a single dance.  
  
  
_I just wanna dance all night_  
_And I'm all messed up, I'm so out of line, yeah_  
_Stilettos and broken bottles_  
_I'm spinning around in circles_  
  
  
Dancing. Why was it always and always dancing. A sad chuckle escaped him. He didn't learn anything in over 80 years. Not back then. Not today. He still couldn't dance. What a shame.  
The rough voice of the singer once again started the refrain, Steve closed his eyes and pictures, images floated in front of his inner eye....  
The dimly lit living room on the personal floor of the Avengers tower. Lonely snow flakes falling from the clouds, almost shining bright against the dark night sky. Just as the snow would be dancing in the cool breeze, they'd be dancing slowly in small circles. He would hold Tony's perfect figure close to him, his hands resting on the dark haired man's slender hips. Inhaling his partners scent, as Tony would lay his head onto his chest. A familiar mixture of expensive perfume, coffee and grease. And Tony. Simply Tony. He knew the smile, the curve of his face. Every single inch of his wonderful self. The genius' hands, dirty with grime and oil from his workshop, would lay peaceful on his shoulders. And Steve would welcome the stains on his shirt. Would welcome the warmth of their intertwined bodies. Would welcome the faint blue glow that would cast soft shadows on their faces. Would welcome every second he would be able to spend with the smaller man in his arms. And time would run slow, as they'd cherish every moment together, dancing slowly into the night. And maybe, just maybe, as the song would come to an end and they'd stop their movements, a small kiss, faint and gentle like a snowflake on warm skin, would touch his lips. And nothing else would matter in that moment. Not their past. Not their future. Only their present.  
  
  
_And I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh oohh_  
_And I'm right over here, why can't you see me, oh oohh_  
_And I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the guy you're taking home, oohh_  
_I keep dancing on my own_  
_And oh no_  
  
  
But reality was a traitor.  
Countless, countless times, Steve had been standing alone in the dark living room, the raging storm outside and raindrops running down the broad windows, leaving wet traces. The raging storm inside of him, a tear running down his high cheekbone, leaving wet traces. No music had been playing. No warmth had laid beneath his fingertips. No kiss had been given to him. And he didn't dance. Not once. Not a second. Not a single step. And he dreamed. And he wished. And he longed for a love he wouldn't get. Dejected he had turned his broad back to the depressing sight of the rain. And with heavy steps he had left the living room behind him, yet still seeing the figure of his love waiting for him in his mind, ready for a dance. But he had closed the doors shut, not wanting to see what he'd never get. The heavy scent of cigarette smoke took him back to where he was. Sitting alone in a shabby bar, his brown leather jacket still a bit wet from the late autumn rain outside. And a lonely tear ran down his high cheekbone, leaving wet traces. The singer began his refrain one last time, pushing his hoarse voice to the limits and the few couples on the dance floor swirled in circles, drowning in the rhythm. Steve's eyes followed every movement Tony made. Be it his secure steps, his defined fingers, his lips that curled to a weak smile. It was wonderful just watching him, Steve could do this all day long. Still, he wondered what it was, that made those usually joyful eyes look so sad, so unbelievable sad. His aching heart wanted to hug Tony's figure tightly, wrap him up in kindness, sooth the sadness away. But that was not his task, it never would be. With that in mind he slowly stood up in the dark corner he had been sitting, grabbing his plain leather backpack and throwing it over his shoulder.  
It was for the best, he had told himself countless times. For the best. For Tony. For his unrequited love. Farewell.  
The last lines of the unknown song echoing in his ears as he walked to the door, passing by the counter where Tony's drink was still standing. The orange light danced on the surface of the golden liquid and another tear betrayed Steve's poker face as he glanced back over his shoulder one last time. His world stood still, just for a heartbeat, a split second, less than a moment, as his crystal blue eyes, blurred with salty drops, locked with chocolate brown eyes, which were looking directly at him, and only at him. At first, shapeless emotions lingered in Tony's gaze. Confusion, surprise and affection. But affection turned into disappointment turned into sadness as he saw the traces of tears on Steve's face. And the depths of his soft eyes darkened, he broke their eye contact. Turning his head around, his figure disappeared in the crowd. The last thing Steve was able to make out, were slender fingers of the foreign women that gently touched Tony's forehead, stroking his cheek, caressing his dark hairline, as he burrowed his face in her neckline, hidden by her blond curls. Sadness, overwhelming Steve like a wave, like gusts of wind, like a sudden storm, pushed him forward. Stepping out of the pub, autumn rain instantly drenched him. The cold water that run down his spine beneath his clothes made him tremble. But it was nothing compared to the trembling of his heart. Defeated he wandered off, trying to leave behind his feelings as he walked down the small alleys in the heart of Brooklyn. Faintly his ears caught the ending of the song, that had accompanied his leave. And raindrops mixed with his tears, washing them away until nothing remained, except for broken wishes, shattered dreams, unrequited love...  
  
  
_So far away but still so near_  
_The lights come up, the music dies_  
_But you don't see me standing here_  
_I just came to say goodbye_  
_I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh oohh_  
_And I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the guy you're taking home, oohh_  
_And I keep dancing on my own_  
_And oh no_  
_Said I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh no_  
_And I'm right over here, why can't you see me, oh no_  
_And I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the guy you're taking home, oohh_  
_And I keep dancing on my own_

 

Inside the warm pub, the music had slowly stopped. Tony's dark hair was gently petted by the woman's slender fingers and her low voice broke through the silence. Questions of concern, questions of curiosity, questions of worry were voiced, but they didn't reach him, not really, not his inside, not his true self. The lights in the pub finally came up as the band finished their performance and they stopped their slow dancing. And unbeknownst to Steve, a single tear ran down Tony's cheek. The small drop being blatant proof of everything he had desperately tried to hide. Hiding from his world, hiding from Steve, hiding from himself. Broken wishes, shattered dreams, unrequited love...  
  
  
_So far away, but still so near_  
_The lights come up, the music dies_  
_But you don't see me standing here_

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the feels.  
> It's my first time writing something without an ecplicit happy ending.  
> My friend N suppressed a tear, about Steve and Tony not knowing/realizing each other's mutual feelings. Thanks a lot for your beta reading ♡


End file.
